


Thanks For Getting us Locked in the Attic, JOHN

by thekingofbottomlennonfics



Series: Bug Boy Oneshots From Quarantine [1]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom John Lennon, Boys in Skirts, Clothed Sex, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-26 18:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30110229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingofbottomlennonfics/pseuds/thekingofbottomlennonfics
Summary: Some hellspawn I wrote back during quarantine on my wattpad account. Moving it here, because I like ao3 more.Featuring- JOHN LENNON IN A SKIRT BC I HAVE A ONE TRACK MIND
Relationships: George Harrison/John Lennon
Series: Bug Boy Oneshots From Quarantine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2216610
Kudos: 7





	Thanks For Getting us Locked in the Attic, JOHN

**Author's Note:**

> John gets them locked in an attic, and George is feeling thrifty. Through this, he accidentally finds a creative way to punish him for that.

George ran a hand through his dark hair as he looked out the small attic window, groaning. Fantastic. He was supposed to have the others over soon, but John had come over earlier. George remembered that the other man found his attick to be an interesting place, and wanted to go through all his shit, so he came with... And left the key down stairs. Whoever came in next would have to unlock them.

George understood the wonder of the place, too. It was snowing that day, so not much to do outside, and it was dark, dreary. Nothing had been cleared out of the place in years, or at the very least since the last inhabitants, so there was all sorts of interesting things lying around, so who knows? Perhaps inspiration for a song, or a drawing would strike for John, and the older Beatle would once again achieve genius.

"Hey! George, I found a weird knife!" The light brunette called, and George groaned, coming over. He then remembered John was also an adult child. It was a long, thin, crooked blade, with a strange handle on it. George didn't like the way John's face lit up with a morbid curiosity, as he surveyed it, eyeing specifically a gem in the center of the handle.

"Lenny, I don't know what cult that belonged to-"

"God, Magpie, you're such a bird! Live a little." The bird beak nosed man laughed, and fake-jabbed the knife at George- who, reasonably so, jumped- before throwing it off to the side with a clatter. He continued to observe the chest, and George sighed, looking back out the window. Still, not sign of the others. He mentally cursed himself for telling them to come at 8 pm, as it was only around 8 at that time. At least, according to an old clock on the wall of the low-roofed floor of the house. It was likely wrong, but considering it was dark out, the time was probably close enough.

George found a case of old albums. Mostly jazz records, and Elvis ones, but still of use. The house had a record player down stairs, and Pattie might enjoy some jazz. She didn't mind as long as George played good music, and it seemed to have some good records, so maybe he would play them. George moved the record box, and saw a box of clothes. It was marked with some names, but George was in a thrifty mood that day, so if he washed them, again, it would matter. And they looked modern enough- he noted, as he opened the box- so maybe he could reuse some.

George sighed. He'd opened a box of birds' clothes, and none were even in Pattie's size. Definitely too big for her. Maybe some of the sweaters she'd like, or some of the tighter shirts, but other than that, it wasn't really reusable. And the a morbid thought crossed George's mind, as he realized who they'd probably fit.

He looked across the room at John, who was digging through some other box, finding old toys, and seeing how they worked. As he looked to the man, he realized that it was practically a perfect fit, and John had wanted to go up anyway, dragging, and ignoring him when he said to wait, so he could go get the keys. Plus, John's reaction would be entertaining nontheless, and George was bored. He looked around for a skirt to match.

Currently, John was wearing a light grey turtleneck, a relaxed fit. Not too tight, not too loose. It was ribbed, and tucked into his black pants. George pulled out a dark blue plaid mini skirt, and chuckled, throwing it at John, who 'oof'ed, and pulled it off of his face.

"Listen George, I know it's boring in here, but I'm the man-child, okay-"

"Put it on." George instructed, cutting John off, who furrowed his thick brows- not as thick as George's, but noticible- and began to protest.

"Magpie, I don't know where the hell you've gotten the idea-"

"Oh come on, John. You dragged me up here before I could grab the key!" George huffed, and John scowled at him, before looking away, and thinking a minute.

"Fine, but look away while I change." John demanded. George nodded, and continued looking through a few things, but honestly, the idea of John in a pleated, high waisted mini skirt was kind of... Nice? George made sure to think about other things, he's not queer, after all, so why should he care if his mate's wearing a skirt. This was because John was an asshole, and needed to be punished for locking them in the attic.

George looked out the window, and there was still no sign of anyone. He groaned, falling on the floor, and closing his eyes, waiting for John to be done, so he could laugh at him. Surely with his ass, and thighs, he'd look like a queer, and then George would have a reason to poke fun at him! Finally getting him back after years of being teased for his age.

"Alright, you poof, are ye happy?" John huffed, and George opened his eyes. George stared for a minute, and deduced that John had indeed, pulled it up to his waist, and tucked in the sweater. His trousers, and boots were off to the side, revealing he'd been wearing white knee-high socks the hole time, and when pulled all the way up, like they were then, they reached just above his knee, and held on snugly. The skirt barely reached mid thigh, and George found himself laughing, as he looked at John.

John groaned, and joined him by the window, sitting down on his knees.

"Any sign of them?" John asked, tugging down at the skirt to make sure his underwear weren't on display for all to see.

"Unfortunately no." George sighed. He wanted to tease John about suddenly wanting the others back, now that he had a skirt on, but he decided against it, not really for the conflict anyway.

"Oh! I saw a little music box, I'll go get it!" John, as he was now in socks, just hald-crawled, half-scrambled over, not even thinking really for a second about how his ass was suddenly exposed. And George didn't expect him to, after all, they were mates, and John shouldn't care, but the sudden exposure made him feel rather funny. John came back over with it in his hands, opening the music box, and beginning to wind it, until he stopped, snd stared up to George, and then down to... Oh.

"Georgie, I... Are you hard?" John uttered, a bit bewildered, and George quickly hugged his knees to his chest to hide it.

"God, sorry, I..." George was at a loss for words. John chuckled.

"What a pervert you are, then. Asking me to get in this skirt, full well knowing that you'd like it." John raised his brows, and smirked. No, not really. Not even Pattie had this effect on him just by wearing a short skirt, and George just thought it would be funny!

"Yeah, well, you're the one in the skirt, Johnny." George's mouth was talking for him at this point, "And so eager to submit, too. I listed reasons, and barely any argument from you. You like wearing skirts." George smirked as John turned absolutely beet red, and struggled to form proper words at that point.

George pinned John down, staring down sat him, and smirking, as John's hands gripped the chest of his coat desperately. Hell, it soon became apparent that John may have been needier than him, dragging him down for a brutal kiss. George quickly took control of it, shoving his tongue into John's mouth, and curling theirs together. John whined into it, and it was still odd hearing a man's voice, especially your mate's, and one you look up to so, but George could care less at that point. He nibbled at John's bottom lip, before he moved down, beginning to mouth around his neck.

John used a free hand to grip his hair, and moaned, voice taking on a desperate, needing tone, just like in their songs. When George thought back on it, everytime John delieved a powerful line, and a desperate 'oh,' it started hitting him now. How much he fucking loved those sounds.

When he began biting, John let out a sinful moan, squirming a bit, and George pulled back, admiring the dark marks he'd left, and moving the neck of John's sweater back above his collar bone. His hands danced down the other's torso, before he swiftly turned him around, and spread his legs apart, having easy access even without removing the skirt. George pulled down his underwear, tossing them off to the side.

"You won't be needing those anymore." George chuckled darkly, John looking back at him over his shoudler, and practically driving him mad by doing that.

"I-I need you." John stuttered out, biting his chapped bottom lip, and George made a mental note to buy him chapstick sometime later.

"Wha..." George realized, and smiled, moving down to his hands, and knees, before giving John a gentle kiss on the bum cheek. John shivered, and pushed back, needing more.

George was just doing him in a way he'd needed for so long. Girls weren't rough like this, they didn't misbehave like this when he put on a skirt. They didn't keep him in line. John decided to test his limits, and maybe try rushing George.

"Magpie, get on with it!" John huffed.

George bit his asscheek rather harshly, pulling out a moan, before moving away, "Don't rush me!" A hard slap landed on John's ass, and the cheek wobbled. John bit his lip, face coming down to the floor, and ass soon in the air. The way he looked back at him, even in such the lewd scene, again, drove George crazy.

"And don't call me Magpie. I'm not a little boy. In fact, you're the one looking pathetic like one." George scolded him, and John quickly nodded. George caressed his now-pinkish cheek as an apology for being rough, going to kiss at it, before sucking up a finger, and slowly pushing it in. John gasped, and flinched, tightening around George, but pushing back against him. George felt so restrained in his pants, just so ready to fuck John, and oddly, it stopped being weird that it was John. He just needed to be in the man, to snap his hips into him, and feel cheeks wobble, and the skirt brush against him. To grip John by the hips, and show him his real punishment for getting them locked in the attic.

Once he felt like John was ready, he still ignored where he was sensitive, leaning over, and gently grinding against him.

"What if I just stopped now, and chose my hand over you, hm? Or maybe if I tied you up for when the other Beatles come here, and let us out? Would you take both Ringo, and Paul at once?" George asked, before finally shoving himself in. They both moaned, John beggining to push back onto George, who was still getting used to how tight it was.

The resistance was so much greater than with a woman, and it was tighter. Not that that was a bad thing. The suction-like sensation felt so amazing, and John was practically sobbing in pleasure beneath him, begging, and shaking.

"Please, Georgie, god, please more, I need it!" He wailed, George groaned at that, gripping John's hips bruisingly, and beginning to move. God- George shook. It was, again, a new sensation, but not unwelcome, and began to keept going, picking up the pace as much as his hips would let him. He tried to keep his dark eyes open, watching John whine, and try to grip at the wooden floor.

"God, such a whore, Johnny. Who would have thought?" George panted out a tease, and John only moaned more. Of course, this wasn't a foreign concept- girls were often into the degrading things, and liked it a bit rough. John must have liked it that way, too, considering his satisfaction with the whole thing, and his whine, when George pulled out.

"Please, Geo..." He whimpered, and George felt his legs shake at that, turning John over. John looked up at him through wet lashes, cheeks flushed, and thin lips a bit swollen, and the bottom on cracked. George liked knowing that he did that.

He picked up one of John's legs, and put it over his shoulder, John giving a drawn out moan, as George went back in. He wrapped another leg around George, clothed heel going into his lower back, and pushing him along to speed up the pace. Their hands gripped each others!, and suddenly George hit a certain spot, pulling a loud gasp out of John, who arched his back. They were both close, George realized, so he kept aiming for that spot, as John kept pushing back on him, and spreading as legs as far as his hips would allow him.

"Oh George!" George could hear the affection dripping out of the call, before perhaps the loudest moan happened, and both their bodies began tensing up. John began to whine, and hump himself on George through the orgasm, as George began going as fast as he could, hips moving more sproadically, as John clenching around him guided him through it.

George finished spilling, and, wow, that was certainly something. He pulled out, John whining in a bit of discomfort, and he was able to watch his cum spilling out of John's ridiculously large ass. George grabbed one of the random old shirts, and cleaned the two of them off, before dressing himself again, as John took the time to fix up his outfit, and sit up, regaining his breathing.

"Woah that was..! Woah!" John uttered, and George hummed, lying down next to him. John looked over, then to George's lips, and shifted closer, connecting them. George waisted no time kissing back, but it was a lot more chaste, and calm now. A lot sweeter, and he could really savour the fact that he had been with John. He was lucky enough to have fucked tough, argumentative, snarky John.

They pulled apart, and George felt the other nuzzling into his chest. He wrapped his arms around John, pulling him in, and savouring the warmth. He liked this. And for a while, be completely forgot about the other Beatles coming back, and fell asleep.

.

John awoke in a pair of thin arms, feeling rather drowsy. In fact, worse than he had when he'd gone to bed. As he heard the banging down stairs, a recollection of his last waking hour came back to him, and he face palmed. His ass hurt, and he wasn't wearing underwear.

Deciding there was no point in stressing about it, John crawled around, finding his underwear, and putting them on. Honestly, he was feeling a bit of shame, having let that happen, but he might as well own it right? If one of the guys comes in, oh well. John went back to curling up against George, and fell back asleep within a few seconds.

Paul unlocked the attic, finally finding the key, and pulled down the stairs.

"C'mon let's scare the lads!" Paul chuckled, and Ringo nodded, hurrying up the steps, with Paul fast behind.

But, what they came in to see was not expected. Paul furrowed his shapely brows, and shook his head. His best friend was looking like a proper queer, in a skirt, snuggled up to his other best friend!

"Aww..." Ringo muttered, turning to Paul seriously, "That's cute, I can't do this."

"Fair enough. Wanna go watch a movie, and steal from George's liquor cabinet?"

"Absolutely."

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this was during quarantine, and it's my first Beatles slash, so probably not too good. I edited it to fix what I can.


End file.
